Housemates
by Basmathgirl
Summary: In an AU, Donna Noble and John Smith are good college friends. Best friends. But one tipsy night threatens to change all that.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing here apart from college experiences.  
 **A/N:** I wanted write a birthday present for **tkel_paris** , and my muse insisted I wrote this. Sorry this is a little bit late and I hope you don't mind me practising writing smutty fic in your name, love. :)

* * *

 **Housemates**

.

It was late into the evening when a young couple sauntered along a well-worn path that led up to a block of pre-war houses recently inhabited by various groups of students. This was the time of year for celebrating. To be honest, any time of year could be deemed as being relevant for celebrating in the student world; but in their case they had had the joint reason of a college friend's birthday and the last lecture for a particular course they had both attended. Normally they'd be worrying about their approaching exams, but they were old hands at this now as the end of their final year fast approached.

Most of the houses they passed were ablaze with lights and loud music, but their own quiet student digs were lit by one solitary light, up on the top floor in the attic extension where Clara and Martha resided next to the second bathroom. The front room on the ground floor was always in darkness these days because its tenant, Rory, tended to spend his time around his girlfriend's place. The house generally missed his calming presence but it couldn't be helped. Soon he and the other inhabitants would be off forging a path in the real world away from the university. Only one of them was likely to be left behind, if he could gain sufficient sponsorship, otherwise permanent employment beckoned for them all.

The night air had caused the alcohol the pair of students had drunk to take stronger effect; and they stumbled in through the door, sniggering with unsuppressed glee as they failed to stop themselves from making a noise in their search for the light switch.

It was the woman of the couple who found it. "And then I said, 'there was me thinking it was dog food'!" she related the end of their conversation, much to the amusement of the young man by her side, who practically broke up with laughter.

"How do you think of these things, Donna?" he complimented her. "I'd have never thought of it in time." He then tripped over the front door mat but clung onto the nearest wall as he feigned any knowledge of the action.

"John… can I call you 'John'? Anyway, I will because that's your name," Donna stated as she wavered on the spot and attempted to point at him. "That, plus the fact you are mighty familiar to me."

"I should think I am by now, you mad cow," he giggled, holding himself up by leaning against the wall of the hallway they were still stood in.

She narrowed her eyes and peered at him thoughtfully. "Are you the John I've been living with for the last two or three years?"

A broad grin spread across his face. "Three whole years. Guilty as charged, milord."

That only caused more confusion. "When did I become a lord?"

"You aren't. You're what we scientists call 'a lady'," he revealed with a great deal of confidence in his knowledge. He even added in a tap to the side of his nose.

"Are you getting all techno babbly on me again?" she queried and grabbed hold of his sleeve to ease herself nearer in order to reprimand him. "Because you aren't the only one around here who will be gaining a doctorate."

"Who else is?" he asked, clearly puzzled as he stared at her with large doe eyes.

"Erm… I think it was you," she supplied, and he readily nodded in agreement.

"That sounds about right. Did you drink any of that green stuff? I can't remember if I did or I didn't," he admitted. "But it was awfully sweet."

"You're sweet too," she joked, and bashed his shoulder. Well, she would have bashed his shoulder but she missed and hit the coatrack behind him instead. "Blimey, you're thin!" she exclaimed. "I need to fatten you up."

"You've done an excellent job of… of… of… of not doing that to yourself," he stuttered as the thought ran away from him. "What were we talking about? Never mind, it's time for bed."

"There was something I had to tell you before we went to bed," she muttered to herself. "I think it had to do with Dr Capaldi."

"He fancies you," John commented with glee, and smirked to himself. "Old man Capaldi is more than a little taken with you. I say him eyeing you up."

"You did not," she denied, blushing furiously. "Don't be daft."

"I'm not fibbing, Donna. Not this time. Honest!" He then confessed, "As for other times… I _was_ fibbing when I said Jack fancies you."

"I know." She attempted to hold in a hiccup by clamping her hands over her mouth. "I always know when you are lying."

"You do? Oh!" He pouted. "Sorry."

She merely shrugged her shoulders. "It happens. I mean; a gorgeous bloke like that with… with eyes; yeah, it stands to reason that he wouldn't be the slightest bit interested in me." She then bent her body and added, "Perhaps I ought to phone Lance."

"Don't you dare!" he threatened her as she pulled out a mobile phone from her coat pocket. "If you drunk call that prat I shall lock you in my bedroom."

"Why shouldn't I?" she petulantly wondered when he grabbed her wrist.

"Because he used you when you went out with him. He always uses you. Why can't you see that? He doesn't deserve you and never did," John insisted as his head slightly cleared.

Sad blue eyes were raised to closely contemplate him. "Then who does? No one wants me," Donna sadly remarked.

"I want you," he readily responded, and quickly tacked on when her eyes went wide in shock, "as my friend; my best friend. The bestest of the best."

"You always say that," she huffed. "It's exactly the same as your dad saying you're pretty; it doesn't mean anything."

"It certainly does!" he protested.

Scrunching her face up in denial, she stressed, "Oh, you know what I mean. You're supposed to say that."

His gaze dropped. "I suppose so," he murmured.

"Anyway, look at you," she chivvied, deliberately knocking his shoulder playfully with her own. "You've got several girls chasing after you. Martha upstairs for one has the hots for you, and that flowery girl from the corner shop... Daisy, Rose, Lily, Hyacinth Bucket, or whatever her name is. She well fancies you."

A light blush appeared on his cheeks. "If you say so."

"I know so," Donna confidently declared. "If I'm lucky, she'll have a brother that I can go out with."

Having silently agreed that that topic had reached its end, they began to clamber up the stairs to where their bedrooms lay. Donna's was in the front bay of the house, next to the main bathroom, and John's room was at the back of the house. There was a third, smaller bedroom on the landing that belonged to their friend Jack. It certainly was a mixed bag of possible careers within the house. Martha and Rory were destined for a medical career; Clara was training to be a teacher, whilst Jack was heading for a place with the Ministry of Defence. Donna wanted to enter the corporate world, and John hoped to gain a life in academia.

To her surprise, he didn't go straight into his room but followed her into hers. "What's up?"

He sort of dithered by her desk chair for a second. "You're not going to phone Lance, are you? Please say you won't."

She touched his arm in comfort. "Alright, just for you, I won't." On the desk in front of her sat the papers she had meant to tell him about. "Oh look! Here's those notes I promised you," she declared, taking hold of them.

His face lit up as he took them from her. "Thanks, I could kiss you!" he proclaimed. Putting the papers back down, he slowly but thoughtfully stated, "In fact, I think I will."

Before she could negatively react, his lips met hers in a soft, pleasant kiss.

"What?!" she stammered out. Could this be really happening to her? Her of all people. It must be a dream because the John she knew would never think to do this.

But all he did was smugly grin at her and cradle her face within his hands. "I might do it again," he whispered, right before he actually did.

This time he took it more slowly, drawing out a satisfied groans from both of them as his mouth moved over hers. Full ripe lips met and slightly opened.

All she could think of saying was, "Why did you do that?"

"Why do you think?" he asked in return.

In complete honesty, she confessed, "Because you're drunk."

"No. I'm tipsy but that isn't the reason," he softly explained; and eased them backwards onto her bed. "Well, apart from the Dutch courage it's given me, obviously. But other than that, I've always wanted to do this."

"You have?" This was definitely a dream, she decided. A nice, drunken, wish fulfilment dream.

"Oh yes," he moaned as he shut her up with another deep kiss.

Not wanting to break the spell, she hungrily returned his kisses; allowing their passion to give her permission to smooth her hands through his hair, then down his back, and onto his bottom. It didn't matter if this was real or not, all she wanted to do was enjoy the moment with him; her secret crush.

His hands were not so static either, going from stroking her back, to fondling her breast, and then down to caress upwards from her thigh.

Soon he was on top of her, pressing into her delicate flesh through their clothing as their tongues glided over each other in their quest to taste one another as deeply as possible. Their mutual desire grew until skin against skin was their ultimate goal.

Their bodies deliciously undulated together; silently promising sensual delights. She raised her knees so that he could touch her more firmly, and then she felt him fumble with the catch on her jeans.

"Wait! Have you got a condom?" she breathily asked.

"No," he admitted as he released her, "but Jack should have one. Hang on." He pulled away, revealing how aroused he was as he gazed at her with desire, before rushing off to fulfil his quest. A minute later he was back, looking eager and very pleased with himself as he held up a small packet. "He wasn't there. Luckily I know where he keeps his stash."

She sat up. "Will he mind?" Donna thought to ask.

"Who cares?" he laughed and then lunged at her body.

They hurriedly undressed each other, adding in playful bites, desiring licks, and wet kisses as they did so. Her fear was that he would immediately reject her once he saw her naked, but quite the opposite happened. Instead, his eyes grew darker with lust, and he readily pulled her closer to his body.

To her delight, he didn't immediately aim for personal satisfaction, like most blokes would do, but he dipped his head and intimately stroked her while he kissed her breasts. Taking great care, he suckled her flesh; causing a thread of desire that shot right to her groin.

"Been wanting to do that for long?" she giggled her question when she saw how much he relished the task.

"You wouldn't believe how long," he said with feeling. "From the very first day."

Well, she could have guessed that one, judging by the way he had surreptitiously ogled her cleavage and peeped down her top. But she had thought it was just a passing phase.

When she reached out to help with putting the condom on, he eagerly allowed access.

~o~

"Oh Donna!" he happily groaned as he moved within her, closely followed by even more blissful groans. "Oh God, you're beautiful. So lovely. Bloody gorgeous."

"Do you think you could shut up for a second?" she modestly begged as she tried to concentrate on the sensations he was causing. "You're not so bad yourself."

"No, you need to hear this," he insisted, and deeply kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you too," she quietly stated, amazed that she felt able to say this to him.

"Love you!" He continued to chant this until he gasped, "God, I'm going to cum. Sorry. I'm so close…"

He warbled out a low and satisfied cry before sagging and landing on her; now totally spent.

"Are you alright? That was fantastic!" he enthused as he still panted with the effort of their love making.

"I'm fine," she replied, still smoothing a hand down his back. Are you?"

"Yeah. Do you fancy a shower together?" he offered.

"That sounds good, and then, you could stay with me, if you like," she heard herself suggest. What on earth had made her say that?! He'd run for the hills.

But he didn't react like that at all. "Why not? I'll go and get some clean underwear from my room," he pleasantly agreed; and ran to do just that.

~o~

As John emerged from his bedroom, with a small pile of clean clothing held in his hands, Jack stepped onto the landing from his own room. He instantly took in the sight of his friend dressed only in his underpants and suppressed a laugh. "Hello John! What are you doing walking about undressed like that at this time of night?"

John tried his best to look invisible against his door, without any positive result. "Nothing," he defended himself.

It was obvious Jack didn't believe him. Especially in light of what he had just discovered elsewhere. "And I suppose you know nothing about taking my stuff?!"

Horror made John's eyes go wild with fright. "Ah, about that... Sorry, so sorry. You weren't here so I helped myself. I thought you wouldn't mind."

"You did, huh?" Jack trod closer to peer at him imperiously. "So who were you shagging? No doubt it was that little blonde who tries to constantly hang out with you. The one that works in that shop. Can't remember its name. Or has Martha finally talked you into bed?"

Should he tell? John raced through all the arguments in his head. "No. No one. I wasn't with anyone."

Fed up with waiting for him to return, Donna donned her dressing gown, opened her bedroom door, and was greeted by the sight of Jack interrogating a distraught John on the landing.

Relief flooded Jack when he saw Donna appear. Here was ally who would help him tease the information out of John. "Can you believe this, Donna? John seems to think I was born yesterday."

"I didn't know it was your birthday, Jack. I'd have bought you a present," Donna deadpanned.

"Ha ha-di-ha, very funny," Jack grumbled. "You know my birthday is next month."

"Oh yes!" she answered as though it was a revelation. John was attempting to sneak off silently into his room, she noted, so she decided to distract Jack further by leaning against the bannister and letting some flesh be displayed by her wayward silken dressing gown. Fortunately it worked, because Jack's eyes lingered on her revealed cleavage. "Don't worry; I'll remind John in plenty of time for your party," she vowed.

He instantly turned his head and saw that John had escaped from his question. Clearly irritated, he queried, "Why do you always stick up for him? He'd be lost be without you. How on earth is he going to cope next semester when you go back home for good?"

"Oh, he'll pick someone else up, just like he always does," she answered. "Then I'll be forgotten like a dream."

This wasn't working, so Jack decided to seduce the answer out of her. With that aim, he moved nearer to conspiratorially schmooze, "You're his best friend. Surely you know who he's just been banging. Go on, tell your Uncle Jack."

She snorted her scorn. "If I knew, you'd be the last person I'd tell, and well you know it. It's jealousy that's making you this noisy about it. People are trying to sleep."

"Sorry. And perhaps I am jealous, just a little bit," he admitted in a low voice, "but that doesn't stop me being interested in who he's had in his bed."

Leaning in closer, she whispered, "I know for a fact that he hasn't had a woman… or man… in his bed tonight; so you can go to sleep without worrying about it."

He frowned at her. "What about you; aren't you worrying?"

"Not yet. I'll be picking up any of the pieces, but that's tomorrow's worry." She smiled her sweetest smile at him and then headed back into her room. "Night, Jack."

"Goodnight, Donna," he replied. But he stood there for a little while longer, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. He'd get to the bottom of this mystery, by hook or by crook.

~o~

The following morning, Jack approached John like a cat weighing up its prey. "So ... Are you ready to tell me who you spent last night with yet?" he asked as he plonked himself down onto the chair beside him at the kitchen table.

It gained the answer he sort of expected from John. "Leave me alone, Jack. I drank way too much at Dr Capaldi's party," he complained. He pushed away the mug in front of him and hugged his head in self-pity.

Jack merely leant back in his chair, reached over and nonchalantly filled up his coffee cup from the nearby coffee maker. "Not until you tell me who they are."

"I need medication. So piss off!" John spat out.

"Tut tut. Hey Donna!" Jack then called out to her as she entered the communal kitchen. "John still won't tell me."

She ignored him while she switched on the kettle to make tea. "And you're surprised because…?" she wondered. She then perched on the edge of a chair while she waited for the kettle to boil and decided what she would grab to eat. "Really Jack, I don't understand why you are so desperate to know."

Jack scowled at Donna. "I don't understand why you aren't. Are you unwell?"

"No, it's just a hangover, thanks," she tritely responded.

"So funny," he sneered. "I'm amazed that you don't cut yourself with that tongue. Martha!" he happily greeted her appearance downstairs in the kitchen. "Did you sleep with our John last night? Finally had your wicked way with him, hmm?" he partially teased.

"No!" Martha hastily denied as she helped herself to some coffee before joining them at the table. "I was nowhere near him. As far as I know he was out with Donna and the rest of their astrophysics class."

That gave Jack an idea. He turned to ask her, "Who's the hottest person in your astrophysics class, Donna?"

The kettle pinged off.

"How would I know?! It could be me," she countered as she bustled about, now making fresh tea.

"Yeah, sure!" He laughed loudly in disbelief, so she glared at him. "Not that I'm saying you are unattractive or anything…"

"Except you are," Donna pointed out. "Don't worry, you're forgiven. Nobody could ever accuse me of being a 'hottie'. More of a 'nottie', if I'm honest."

"That's not true!" Martha protested in her defence.

"Thanks, Martha. I knew you were my friend," Donna gratefully acknowledged. "Unlike some people I could mention."

"I've never said you are ugly," John guilty groaned out from behind his hands.

"True." It didn't then help that she remembered what he HAD said to her in the heat of passion. Trying to fight off any revealing blush, she offered, "So ... Who's up for a hangover busting full English breakfast?"

"We've got no bacon, or sausages," Martha listed, "or eggs."

"Then I'd better get my bum in gear and go buy some supplies," Donna stated decisively." Anything I can get you while I'm there, John? Alka Seltzers, new stomach, magic wand, memory loss?"

He emerged from his cocoon to answer, "Just something that will stop me feeling sick, please." He smiled as pleasantly as he could at her in the circumstances. "And Donna… Thanks."

With a nod of acknowledgement, she was gone.

~o0o~

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 **A/N2:** an unedited version of this can be found on AO3.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** sorry, my muse insisted that I added to this one, thanks to a jealousy prompt I saw.

* * *

 **Part 2**

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"Well hello!" a cool voice greeted Donna as she carelessly swung the basket held her hand as she perused the breakfast goods in the small supermarket that lay close to her student digs.

Turning in the aisle to see who it was, she instantly recognised him as one of her lecturers. "Morning, Dr Capaldi. Fancy seeing you around here," she greeted him.

He peered into her basket. "A little excessive considering your condition last night," he noted on seeing several packs of meats.

"What this?" she queried, indicating her head towards the basket contents. "It isn't all for me. I volunteered to make everyone breakfast."

"Very commendable, my dear," he replied.

Feeling his intense gaze still upon her, she quickly offered, "There's more than enough if you fancy joining us." He was bound to decline, but it was worth making the gesture.

"That is very kind of you. I would love to." He beamed at her in pleasure. "In that case, let me spare your stretched finances and this shall be my treat," he insisted, taking hold of the basket from her hand. His expression was one that brooked no argument.

"Well, if you insist," she acquiesced as she picked up some extra bread for toast and followed him to the till.

Her cheerfulness took a dip when he pulled out some incriminating items from the basket and placed them on the cashier's conveyor belt. "Are these yours?" he wondered.

"Oh! You don't have to pay for them; I was asked to pick them up for my friend," she hastily apologised, feeling mortified under his judgemental stare. "I'll deal with it."

"John Smith, I presume," he correctly guessed, and handed over enough bank notes to cover the cost. "Never mind. He can thank me later."

~o~

She was dishing up their full English breakfast that could technically be called a brunch, when John finally reappeared in the kitchen, having smelt the delicious aroma of cooked bacon. Without noticing their guest who sat at the table with their back to him, John managed to sidle up to Donna.

"We need to talk," he said as quietly as he could, getting as close as possible; but not entering her personal space.

Without looking at him, she replied, "No we don't," and stepped around him to take plates to the table. "Did you get your tablets okay?"

He nodded his thanks, mentally noting that the pain was dissipating. "We… Argh!" he exclaimed in shock as he turned and spotted Dr Capaldi sitting midway through eating his plateful.

"Good morning, Smith," Dr Capaldi greeted him. "Are you feeling any better?"

John's head swung towards Donna in confusion. "What?!"

"He spotted your hangover cure in my shopping basket," she supplied, "and he kindly offered to treat us to breakfast so I invited him over. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes, that's fine," John faintly answered as he took in the presence of almost all his housemates. "Thank you for the tablets. I feel much better." This was going to be more difficult than he had first thought.

Not knowing what else to say for a second, he sat himself down at the table.

"Here you go, Jack," Donna pleasantly announced as a full plate was placed in front of him. "I'll get ours, John."

"There's no need," he started to insist, but within seconds a plate appeared before him and then she sat down with her own plate, next to him. "Donna, we really do need to erm.. talk," he hissed.

But she was still averting her gaze, refusing to make eye contact. "No we don't", she repeated in a tiny sing-song voice. "There is nothing to discuss," she asserted.

"What's not to be discussed?" Jack inevitably asked, his interest piqued. "Are you two arguing again?"

"Just a minor disagreement," Donna cheerily responded.

"If you say so." John scowled at her. "But you still have my notes," he tightly stated.

"Ooh, your notes," she slowly remarked as realisation hit her. THAT was all he was interested in. The rest of it was a mere trifle; some notch on his bedpost and a future late night tale to laugh at with his mates. "I'll give them to you after we've eaten."

"This breakfast was delightful," Dr Capaldi remarked as he finished his meal and sat back with some satisfaction. "It was worth running into you."

"Yes, it's really good!" Martha enthused as she viewed her own plateful. "You should do this more often."

"Thank you; you're welcome. This might be the last time I do this, I don't plan on rustling up any more hangover cures," Donna answered, picking up her own set of cutlery in order to start eating. "Those days are over. I have to concentrate on revising for my exams."

"Not all the time, eh," John joked, trying to lighten the mood between them. It didn't work.

"Some of us aren't as clever as you," she remarked, "so we have to actually work at getting a decent pass."

"Hey hey hey!" Jack admonished her. "Play nicely at the table, please. We know you've got a hangover but there's no need to take it out on us."

"Sorry everyone," she contritely replied. "What must you think of me, Dr Capaldi? I'm err… feeling a little bit delicate today."

Dr Capaldi smiled encouragingly at her. "That would be my fault for plying you with drinks last night. I shall have to make it up to you."

Martha exchanged a puzzled look with Jack. What exactly was going on? John was merely looking grim as he focused his attention onto his plate and not whatever was happening between Donna and the lecturer.

"Yes, we've noticed how fragile you are this morning." Jack then flashed Donna his megawatt smile in reassurance. "I'm sure with John's help you'll ace that exam."

She stole a glance towards John, wondering if he'd ever want to spend time with her again. "If he wants to that'd be lovely, but he shouldn't have to worry about me."

"As your friend he should," Dr Capaldi stated, "but if he is unwilling to help, then by all means drop by my office. You are welcome at any time."

John lifted his head to glare at their visitor from under his long fringe.

"That's very kind of you," Donna answered, placing her hand onto John's thigh to stop him acting on any angry impulse.

"Anything to help my ablest students," Dr Capaldi pleasantly vowed; and then pushed his chair away from the table. "If you will excuse me, it was lovely to meet you all but I have to get back to my work."

Donna rose from her chair too. "I'll see you out."

From inside the kitchen they all heard him say, "Thank you, Donna dear, for providing such good company and a wonderful meal."

What they didn't know was that he also kissed her cheek as he left the house.

She returned to the kitchen with a crimson blush on her cheeks. "That was different," she remarked.

"He seems nice," Martha commented, noting the flush. "Is there something going on we should know about?"

"Not really," Donna cagily replied. "I think."

Before anything else could be asked, she began to collect used plates and took them to the sink.

It was with interest that Jack watched her bustle about. "Did you know he was coming?" he asked John.

"No," John insisted. "It was all news to me. I don't really understand why he came here."

"Well, he paid for breakfast, so you should all be grateful," Donna defended their guest, nearing the table again.

"What else is he willing to pay for?" he blurted out. John knew it was wrong for him to have said that the moment it left his mouth, but his brain wasn't willing to take the blame yet.

Hurt burst across her face, and her nostrils flared in indignation as she bunched her hands up into fists; ready to strike at any second. "I…"

Instead of striking out, as they'd all expected, Donna fled from the room and could be heard stomping up the wooden stairs.

"Go after her, you plank!" Martha grumbled at John when he still sat there like a numpty. "You owe her an apology for that."

Jack indicated with his eyes that John should do as Martha requested; leaving him with no option.

"Yeah, I'll do that," John agreed, and quickly got up to follow Donna. "Right away."

"Something really fishy is going on here," Jack commented as they watched him go. "What do you think it is?"

"I dunno," Martha admitted, "but somebody seems a bit jealous."

~o~

When John reached the top of the stairs, Donna was in his bedroom, slamming down a set of papers onto his desk.

"There you go, mon Capitan. One set of notes, as promised. Payment fully paid," she huffed on seeing him.

"What?!" he exclaimed. "There's no need to be like this."

She rounded on him. "Oh isn't there? You've made it very clear how you feel about me."

He tried to stop her pushing passed him, but she easily shoved him out of the way.

Undeterred, John followed her into her bedroom. "Please, Donna," he begged. "Listen to me. You're not being reasonable."

"Don't I always have to listen where you are concerned?" she retaliated. "Everything I do is never good enough for you, old Mr High-and Mighty." She flailed her hands about in emphasis. "I get the picture, but you're off the hook now. You're free to chase after that little blonde you fancy down in Hendricks. I won't get in your way. It's all been sorted."

"What do you mean, it's all been sorted?" he petulantly queried.

"Dr Capaldi has arranged it so that I can work in the science faculty once our exams are over and I'm technically qualified. It will be mainly paperwork to start with but he says there's plenty of opportunity to get promoted. And the best part is that I don't have to go back and live with my mother. I can get accommodation on campus again if I want."

"But… but… Why? You can't do that," John fretted, his hands finding their own path up into his hair; and he tugged on it helplessly. "No, that's wrong." He practically spun on the spot.

Donna watched his dance of woe and frowned. "Why can't I? It's a job, doing what I love, living where I want to, and I get out of your hair. I thought you'd be pleased," she slowly defended herself. "How is that wrong?"

He would have explained how wrong, but in that second he spotted a foil sealed box lying on her bedside table.

"You bought condoms," he gasped out in surprise.

To his dismay, a deep blush crept up her neck and over her face. "Not exactly. Dr Capaldi paid for them along with the shopping. I never asked him to," she stated with a self-deprecating shrug. "He just did."

At that, John seemed to get even more agitated than ever, before finally plonking himself down onto the bed to sit with his head hung low in misery. "I _told_ you Dr Capaldi had a thing for you, but you didn't believe me. And now he's gone buying you stuff and arranged all this, and you're leaving me to be…"

"To be what?" she demanded in confusion. "It shouldn't exactly be a bloody big surprise that I'd go and get a job on my own and move away once the course finished. Or did you conveniently block that fact out, seeing as you'll be happily living here with Martha next year, along with Tom, Phil and their mates. Don't tell me you've gone doolally and forgotten all that?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," he weakly answered, and lifted his head to gaze at her with huge sad eyes. "There's no way I could forget that you leave right after the exams."

"Then what's the problem?" she asked more softly. "Don't you like Tom or Phil?"

There was a shake of his head. "I like them. They aren't the problem."

She moved nearer, sat on the bed next to him and took his hand. "Is it Martha? Because I know for a fact that she won't bother you if you don't want her to," she calmly insisted.

His hand gripped hers more tightly. "It isn't Martha," he stated, and braced himself to say the truth. "I don't want you to work with Dr Capaldi."

She instantly snorted her scorn. "Look, I know you can get a bit proud and jealous with your braininess; arrogant even. But I can hardly see how I can make a dent in your ego by typing up a few pages of notes." Then a thought occurred to her, and she eyed him warily. "Unless you think I'm making a move on Dr Capaldi and that's the thing you're jealous of." His face told her that she was getting close to the truth. "No!" she gasped out in disbelief. "Tell me I'm wrong." Dropping his hand, she edged slightly away, recoiling from the thought. "Boy did I get things backwards. How stupid can I be?"

"You're not stupid," he murmured. "Do you mind about me being jealous?" John hesitantly wondered. "I… I ...thought you knew."

"Up until now I didn't. I thought it was all an act," she admitted. "But it makes sense now." She turned to face and reassure him with her words. "I promise that I won't get into any situation that could compromise your interest. Obviously he followed me here this morning as a means to see you; I get that now. You should have told me you were having an affair with him. I'd have backed off and left you to it."

She couldn't be saying this! "Donna?!" John wailed as she rose from sitting on the bed. "You think that?"

"Of course I do," she confirmed. "What happened last night was you merely testing out a theory to see how committed you are to being gay. I can see that. Well, you've got your proof now. He's tried hard with the favouritism, I'll give him that. You'd have hardly noticed you were his special little star pupil."

"What? No no no no. You are more than an experiment!" he swore, standing up too. "How could you even think that?"

"When your best friend starts going around telling you not to work with his lover, it tends to give you that impression," she reasoned.

"No, you've got the wrong idea," he persisted, and launched himself to grab hold of her, wrapping his hands around her arms. "It isn't like that."

"Get your hands off me!" Donna cried out in horror. She beat off his hands and wrenched herself away from him. "Go away!"

"Donna, please," he implored, "I'm not going to hurt you." But she started to run, heading away from him and from what he had wanted to declare. "Come here."

"No! Keep away," she spat back as he followed her out onto the landing. He cornered her by the door frame to the bathroom. "What do you want?!"

Both Jack and Martha had been unable to avoid hearing the end of their spat, thanks to all the shouting. The two friends often argued, but this time it sounded more serious, so Jack led the way up the stairs in order to intervene and separate the two from physical harm. He knew that Donna was capable of landing more than a mean punch on anyone, as he'd once been at the receiving end of one of her thumps after a prank had backfired. His head had just reached the point when he could peep over the balustrade when he saw both of them, with John pinning Donna up against the door frame of the bathroom. The words were on the tip of his tongue to shout out and stop the possible attack, but he was stopped in his tracks. This looked completely different to what he had expected.

As it turned out, it was.

John loosened his tight hold on Donna, but he didn't completely let go. Instead he raised one hand and caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly over her skin. His other hand rested on her waist; eager to draw her near. Her eyes were huge; filled with unshed tears as she silently begged him not to be joking, not to hurt her with some mean prank.

"What do I want? I thought you knew. I want you, Donna," he quietly told her. "Not some blonde, not Dr Capaldi, or any other lecturer you can think to drag into the argument; just you. And do you know why I want you?" She shook her head, as he had expected her to. By now his thumb had reached her mouth, and he was gently stroking her bottom lip. "Because what I said last night was true, even though I have tried to deny it for years; probably from the very beginning. The joke is that I'm only saying it now because a few drinks gave me the courage, because of what you said too. I'm sick of pretending I don't feel this way so I'm going out on a limb here. I love you, Donna. That's why I don't want you to move away. I want you to stay with me; live with me, properly, like lovers. So will you? Will you live with me?"

"I don't…," she began to say, but she was so stunned by his words that she couldn't finish the thought.

"And I know that isn't a proper proposal, but it's something we could consider later on, if you like," he continued trying to persuade her to stay. "I can't offer you much at the moment but it's loads more than that prat Lance can give you. So what do you say?"

Jack and Martha joined John in holding their breath as they waited for Donna's answer.

"You dumbo," she wheezed out.

"Is that a no?" he queried, already feeling his heart begin to break.

"That's a yes, you prawn. I don't go around idly telling people I love them," she chastised him. "What do you take me for?"

"Anything you are willing to offer me," he cheerily replied, beaming with happiness. "I can't live without you."

There was only one thing he could do having said that, so he eased forward and crushed her body to his as he kissed her thoroughly; triumph in his every movement.

"Has he finally told her?" Martha whispered as she stood on tiptoe, trying to see past Jack in front of her.

"Yes," Jack quietly confirmed with glee.

"Good," Martha commented. "It took them long enough, but they finally said it."

"What do you mean? It was obvious that John loved her," Jack argued, "but it wasn't clear where Donna is concerned."

"Don't tell me you were taken in by all that 'he is not my type' crap Donna came out with?" Martha wondered incredibly. "What planet have you been on?"

"The usual: planet John-lust, just like you," Jack countered. "I should have realised last night. Why didn't you say anything? Those two were acting really weird."

"I don't poke my nose in, unlike some people," Martha continued to bicker with him.

But outside the bathroom and bedroom doors, happily trading ecstatic kisses, the couple of the moment, were keen to ignore their friends, just for once.

"Wasn't I promised you'd stay the night with me?" Donna pondered during a brief respite from kissing.

"Oh yes," John happily agreed. He turned them towards her bedroom door and nudged her into the room beyond. "There was also a promise we'd have a joint shower together too and you'd let me help you wash your back. But first, we have some pressing business in your bed."

With that, the bedroom door was slammed shut, and Jack was left looking at the bemused face of Martha. "Looks like you've got some familiar housemates next year after all," he remarked.

Martha's face went soulful. "Never mind, Jack," she said, patting his arm in consolation. "There's always becoming a godfather to look forward to in years to come."

He nodded his agreement. "Or a threesome, when they get bored," he added, much to their mutual amusement.

Then the two of them descended the stairs and pretended that they couldn't hear the sounds coming from above; for the next hour or so.

~o0o~


End file.
